


Assisted Suicide

by MaidenM



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Jack is sad, M/M, Suicide Attempt, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 12:27:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10944501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaidenM/pseuds/MaidenM
Summary: Overwatch might not have fallen had things gone differently between Jack and Gabriel. When a mysterious assassin takes down agents that may have had other loyalties, perhaps the future will turn out to be different.





	Assisted Suicide

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for Reaper76Week but didn't like it and decided to leave it alone. With some encouragement, I have now decided to share it. Rated M for attempted suicide/murder.

At first, not much happened. The wind whispered softly through the trees. The light of the moon illuminated the glade with a soft, cold light. A branch creaked somewhere, perhaps from the weight of an owl. Then, everything was silent. Not a creature stirred.

 

A bright flurry of blue light appeared in the night, accompanied by a soft hum. It stirred, coiled, twisted in and around itself. Eventually it quivered.

 

A body was thrown out of the light, spat out as if it was unwanted. It hit the ground with a loud 'oof' and rolled a few feet before coming to a stop. It stood up shakily after a few moments, looking around to gather it's bearings.

 

The light shivered again, flickering momentarily. The man appeared to be startled before he made a dash towards it. For a moment the shape of a young woman might have been seen within it, reaching out to the man.

 

Then it faded, leaving the man behind.

 

***

 

Strike-Commander Morrison looked down on the report. As much as he wanted to make this a priority the UN had been breathing down his neck about a number of other matters.

 

"When was the last reading?" he asked, looking up at the brilliant scientist currently sitting in a swing made from a tire.

 

"A month ago as of tomorrow," Winston answered as he bit open another jar of peanut-butter, "it was stronger than before and not far from here. However, there was no trace of anything or anyone when we arrived at the scene." The gorilla sighed. "If you could find some way to increase my staff or—"

 

"I wish I could, Winston. Believe me." Jack ran his hand through his hair. It had begun to gray already, and he was sure it was getting thinner too. "Sadly, I do not have the last say in this matter."

 

Winston sighed and adjusted his glasses. "Of course, Commander."

 

Jack cringed inwardly at the comment. He wasn't sure when it started, but lately he felt as if he could hear people think  _ what good are you then _ when he announced that his hands were tied.

 

"I want Lena back in one piece as much as you do," he tried to assure the scientist. Or maybe he just wanted to assure himself that he had actually said it, lest anyone would say he never cared. "We'll just have to keep working, as always."

 

"Yes, Commander."  _ Is that all you can say? Is that all you can  _ do _? _

 

Every step from the R&D department was like an added weight to his chest. His duties both on and off the field had certainly taken their toll lately. When messing around with what was looking more and more like time-travel to save a teenager was one of the least stressful missions things had really gone up the creek.

 

When he got back to his office Blackwatch-Commander Reyes was waiting for him. If it was possible to tense and relax at the same time, that is what Morrison did.

 

"You need to look at this," Gabriel stated before Jack had said a word. He placed a rather thick paper file on Jack's desk. Blackwatch had seen the benefits of keeping paper reports, easier to dispose of for starters.

 

Jack sat down in his chair and started looking through the papers. "The mysterious assassin?" he asked. Gabriel nodded.

 

The assassin had surfaced three weeks ago and had already taken down multiple agents, both Overwatch and Blackwatch. Clean, efficient kills. Whoever this killer was they knew what they were doing. At first it had been frightening.

 

Then things... got better. Less missions failed. There was less dissent in the ranks. Things were working  _ better _ . At that point it became terrifying.

 

Gabriel had been compiling evidence that the agents that were killed had been compromised. That the assassin was  _ helping _ them. The thought was, in its own way, chilling. Someone, out there, had better grip of what was going on in Overwatch than he did. Better grip of what was happening in Blackwatch than Gabriel did.

 

Jack bit his lip as he skimmed through the papers. He recognized many names. Many faces.

 

"I hate that I can say this, but I told you." Gabriel's deep voice might as well have been a blunt instrument. "I told you we were compromised."

 

"And I didn't listen,"Jack said softly, more and accusation to himself than an admittance to Gabriel. The Blackwatch Commander watched him silently for a while.

 

"I wouldn't say that," he said eventually, so quiet Jack almost didn't hear him.

 

He had  _ tried  _ to help, as much as he could at least. He had never been good at sniffing out bad deeds from people who wanted them hidden. He never had to, before the promotion. Before, if he wanted to make someone confess their crimes, all he had to do was smile, be supportive, be  _ kind _ and people just... told him. Yes, it was me who broke the lamp. Yes, I ate the last pudding. Yes, I put that letter in your locker.

 

His methods were much less effective on people who were trained to say nothing, even under the threat of torture. Gabriel had once insinuated that was why he was promoted over his senior. More gullible. Easier to manipulate.

 

He hated that he was starting to believe it himself.

 

"Are these the people you suspect are..." he gestured to the list of people who he knew where still alive.

 

"Next, yeah." It was a fairly long list. It made his stomach turn.

 

"All these people," he muttered, "I can hardly believe it."

 

"You want my advice?" Gabriel asked.

 

"Of course." Jack couldn't pretend he didn't see the twitch in Gabriel's face when he said that. He really needed to let the man know how much he valued his input from now on. Once, he would have gotten his counsel without even asking, now there was  _ formality _ between them.

 

"I'd say, send them out. One by one. See if he comes for them."

 

Jack stared at his old friend, trying to see the joke. There was none. "You can't be serious," he almost gasped.

 

"Dead serious." Gabriel ran his hand over his face with a heavy sigh. "Whoever this is seems to know more than either of us. He's taking out our trash. And the best part is, he's either not one of us or he's acting on his own. Meaning we can't be blamed. Whatever the root of this corruption is, they can't blame us." The elder man punctuated the end of his sentence with a few jabs to the desk with his finger.

 

"There are our people," Jack said meekly.

 

"Are they?" Gabriel gestured to the file, "are they really?"

 

He didn't have an answer.

 

They sent out three of the suspects on missions. Within a week two of them were dead.

 

***

 

The man crossed two more names off his list. Two more notches to his rifle.

 

***

 

A month passed. 15 agents were killed. Several of the surviving names from the list resigned and vanished without a trace.

 

With every agent's...  _ departure _ things went smoother. In a way, that was worse than the betrayal. How far did this go? How far would it have gone without their homicidal guardian? Jack did what he could, but he couldn't deny that since the murders started his superiors had pushed harder than before.

 

Like they were losing ground.

 

"Jack." Gabriel's voice was soft now. It hadn't been soft with him for years. "You okay?"

 

He looked over to where the older man was seated in his office. He looked warm in his hoodie, soft, like his voice. For one moment, all Jack wanted to do was curl up in his lap. Press himself against his chest and fall asleep while listening to his heartbeat.

 

"I'm tired," he admitted.

 

A month ago Gabriel would have snarked at that. Now he stood up from his seat and crossed over to Jack and placed a hand on his shoulder. It was warm.

 

"I know," Gabriel whispered as he pulled him into an equally warm chest.

 

***

 

The blue light flickered and died. The man was starting to realize he was going to have to be really lucky to get home.

 

***

 

"I really don't like this, boss." Jesse made a face as Gabriel shrugged into his jacket.

 

"What, is the color bad on me?" the Commander replied with a small grin as he looked himself over in the mirror. He still cut a fine figure with a suit.

 

"You know what I'm talkin' about! Agents are dropping like flies and we're—" another face "— and we're going to a  _ party _ !"

 

Gabriel adjusted his tie. Should he do something with his hair? His buzz cut was getting just long enough to do something with it, he had seen the way Jack's eyes lingered when it had gotten long enough to curl in the past.

 

"Not a party, McCree, a gala. It's just a PR things, really." Maybe slicked back.

 

"That just makes it worse! That assassin could probably have a field day picking us off!" Jesse was almost wailing now. "I'm just... I'm just worried, Gabe. What if he comes for you or Jack next."

 

Gabriel paused, his hand tugging at one of his locks. He thought McCree was worried for himself, not for him and Jack.

 

"You know what has been consistent about our assassin's kills so far?" he asked, turning to face the young man.

 

"His uncanny accuracy? His bloodthirst? His—"

 

"He has never once killed a target in public." It was true, and a small mercy. Led to fewer questions.

 

"You're banking on  _ that _ ?" Jesse was fidgeting now.

 

"That," Gabriel nodded and gave the cowboy a pat on the shoulder, "and you. You'll be my eyes and ears tonight."

 

"And why are you going again?"

 

"I'm Jack's plus one."

 

"And since when are you dating?" A hint of a smirk tugged at the boy's lips.

 

"Hopefully," Gabriel smiled, "since tonight."

 

***

 

Fingers moved across the keypad, muscle memory moving them as much as conscious thought. Part of him dreaded what was to come, another wanted it.

 

***

  
  


Jack downed the glass of champagne faster than what was probably polite. He couldn't really get drunk anymore but he could drink fast enough to at least be tipsy for a while. He really needed something to calm his nerves. The assassin was still at large, Lena was still... unaccounted for, UN complained more than usual, the protests were becoming more frequent and Gabe  _ wore his hair slicked back _ . Supersoldier or not, he could only deal with so much stress at once.

 

"McCree's outside, everything seems calm," Gabriel whispered from behind him. Jack was half convinced it was a stress-test. "Not that I'm worried, but I think we shouldn't stay longer than we have to."

 

"Agreed," Jack replied. He didn't really trust his own words to come out right now. Lately things had been... different between him and Gabriel. Softer words. Lingering touches. Like when they were young. It was comforting. Calming.

 

Part of him was terrified of giving in to that calm.

 

He grabbed another glass from a passing waiter. Gabriel did the same. He pretended not to notice how Gabe watched his lips when he drank.

 

There was mingling, some food, plenty to drink. Occasionally Gabe pressed his finger to his ear to listen to McCree, but he assured Jack that nothing was out of the ordinary. They spent the evening never leaving each other's side, moving closer for each minute. Spoken words became murmurs. A pat on the shoulder turned into fingers grazing down a spine.

 

"Why did we stop doing this?"

 

"Don't remember," a serene smile, "we should start again."

 

When the music started, Gabriel offered him his hand and Jack gave in.

 

***

 

The sound of footsteps made his entire body tense. One way or another, he was not leaving this room alive.

 

***

 

It was just past midnight when they retired for the night. Despite the touches, the glances and the not-at-all subtle eyebrow-wiggling from Jesse, Jack decided to return to his quarters alone for the night.

 

Alright, maybe it was  _ because _ of the eyebrow-wriggling.

 

Jack almost felt like giggling when he entered his apartment. Even if just for an evening things had been right. As Gabe had danced with him he hadn't worried about a thing. He took off his jacket, shoes and his shirt, leaving him in only his slacks and undershirt. He was still a little tipsy from all the champagne. For now, even if just for a moment, reality could wait.

 

The moment he turned on the lights reality hit him in the neck.

 

He staggered, reflexes kicking in and blocked a hit that would have crushed his windpipe otherwise. Another hit, much faster than he anticipated struck him in the stomach making him bend over. An arm wrapped around his throat and he was forced to his knees.

 

"Stand down, Morrison," a gravely voice growled by his ear. In the corner of his eye he saw a face obscured by a mask, red visor gleaming like an angry sunset.

 

He managed to bring his elbow up with enough force to push his assailant away. He scrambled to put some space between them, trying to get a better read on the situation. His foe was tall, well built. Military gear just visible under civilian clothes.

 

"Who are you? What do you want?" Jack huffed, half hoping this was something he could talk himself out of. Maybe he would have, if the universe wasn't such a shithead.

 

"I'm just a soldier," the man cocked his neck, "and I'm here to fix Overwatch." With that he lunged. He was fast, very fast. Even with SEP on his side Jack was only slightly faster.

 

He blocked another hit, but again the second strike caught him by surprise. When he doubled over this time a knee came up to meet his chin followed by an elbow to the back of his neck.

 

Caught by surprise, tipsy, no protection. Not exactly ideal fighting conditions.

 

"See, you're part of the problem." The statement was followed by a kick. "I can pick off their soldiers best I can," Jack dropped to his knees again, "but unless I let them know that not even their greatest pawn is safe," The arm came back around his neck, "they're just going to come right back."

 

The sound of a gun's safety clicking off by Jack's ear might as well have been thunder.

 

"Don't worry, Overwatch will be in good hands. I'll make sure of that. Once they don't have you to hand them everything on a silver platter finding their channels will be easier. Everyone will be fine without you. They'll mourn for a while and then they get over it. They always do."

 

It may have been Jack's imagination but he could swear the assassin's voice cracked for a moment. He latched onto that certainty with everything he had.

 

"You don't want to do this." He made it sound like a statement.

 

"What I want doesn't matter. Never did."

 

"But you don't want this!"

 

"Doesn't matter." Jack felt the barrel of the gun press into his temple as the man seemed to take a deep breath, the sound distorted by the mask. "It doesn't matter.  _ You _ don't matter."

 

Jack's words got caught in his throat. Part of him believed the man, he  _ didn't  _ matter. He was just a boy from Indiana, there's no end to guys like him, really. Another part wished he was right, that it really wouldn't matter if he gave up.

 

The last part of him was fighting for its life.

 

A knock interrupted them. It was followed by the sound from the keypad. When he heard the door open he went through the short list of people who knew his password in his head.

 

"Jack?" Gabe. "Jack, you awake? I just thought if I didn't came to talk with you I'd—" Gabriel trailed off as he turned the corner of the hall and was met with the sight of Jack, on his knees, with a gun to his head. "—I'd regret it," he finished weakly.

 

"Our assassin," Jack managed to get out before the arm tightened. The man hoisted Jack to his feet, arm still around his throat and the gun pressed firmly to his head.

 

"Reyes." It was only a whisper. Jack wasn't sure if Gabriel had been able to hear it.

 

"Jack," Gabriel's voice came out uncertain, afraid, "why does our assassin have a gun to your head?"  _ Are you one of them? _

 

"He's not complicit in Overwatch's corruption, if that's what you are wondering," the man said, his voice like tar on gravel, "but he is part of the problem. He needs to go."

 

Gabriel's face changed slowly, Jack hadn't seen him with fear in his eyes since the crisis and yet it filled his eyes, ghosted across his face, all because he realized that Jack was one tiny movement from slipping away forever.

 

"Don't hurt him," Gabriel breathed, "Please don't hurt him." Jack felt tears spill at the pleading sound of his voice. Or maybe he was already crying and he only just noticed it.

 

"Why do you care?" the man asked, sounding genuinely surprised. For a moment his grip around Jack relaxed, but not enough to be an opening.

 

"He's important to me."

 

"He's not important to  _ anyone _ ," the growl in the assassin's voice was almost primal, "least of all to  _ you _ !"

 

His voice  _ definitely _ broke that time.

 

"He is," Gabriel stated, "he's very important to me. I'll do anything you ask. I'll make sure you won't get caught, I'll get you out of the country, I'll get you anything you ask for just  _ please _ let him go!"

 

The silence stretched between them. All Jack could hear the filtered, shallow breath of his would-be killer.

 

"You didn't care before..." The growl wavered ever so slightly.

 

"I did, I always did. I just didn't say it." As he said it Gabriel looked straight at Jack, rather than at the man.

 

Again the silence was deafening. The loudest noise was the sound of a teardrop falling off Jack's face and down onto the leather of the man's jacket.

 

"All I want is to go home, and that is not something you can give me," the man spoke and renewed his grip on the gun, moving his finger to the trigger. "I'm stuck here. This is all I can do."

 

"I love you, Gabe."

 

It took a moment for Jack to realize he had said it out loud. Gabriel's small, nervous laugh was like music in the stillness.

 

"I love you too, Jackie."

 

The arm relaxed. For a moment Jack prepared for the worst. Then, in one swift movement, the arm moved behind him and pushed him towards Gabriel who caught him in his arms.

 

The man took a step back and just watched them for a moment. Even as Gabe held on to Jack for dear life and kissed his hair he didn't let his gaze off the assassin for a moment.

 

"Don't screw this up," the man said and held up his gun, "don't stop talking to each other this time." Then he put the gun under his chin and pulled the trigger.

 

***

 

Winston gave the contraption a few satisfied knocks. It hummed slightly as it gave off a soothing blue light.

 

"Well, Strike-Commander. I think this will do the trick. If kept near a being out of their time this should, theoretically, anchor them to their own time."

 

Jack looked up at the gorilla. "Are you sure it will work?"

 

"Well, no," Winston adjusted his glasses, "considering the special circumstances, there's hardly a lot of chances to test it out. But I am quite confident!"

 

"Hmm..." Jack stroked his chin for a moment, froze for a moment, and let his hand fall. "Would you be more confident if there was a chance to try it?"

 

"Of course, but as I mentioned—"

 

"What if I said we have a test-subject for you?" Jack stroked the underside of his chin, as if checking if it was still there.

 

The scientist looked at him, speechless, for a while. Eventually he gathered up the machine, a few tools and a rolled up blueprint.

 

"Show me," he asked.

 

They walked quite far, and quite far down. Winston, despite being many times bigger than Jack, hurried to keep close to the Strike-Commander as they went into the deepest levels of the Blackwatch section. They passed by interrogation cells, holding cells, storage and more before they arrived at a seemingly abandoned section.

 

"He's in here." Jack waved for the gorilla to enter, which he did with just a little trepidation.

 

Inside was Blackwatch Commander Reyes, watching over a handcuffed man with bandages over most of his head. Winston couldn't see much of his face but he couldn't shake the feeling that he had seen him before.

 

"This man," Reyes began, "says he's from the future. Can you send him back where he came from?"

 

"Ah. Er, yes, I. Hmm..." He rolled out his blueprint, read in silence for a while, tinkered for a moment with the Chronal Accelerator. "It should be simple. He would only have to be near it when it is active and that should pull him back into his own time."

 

"Get on with it then," the man said as he approached. His stance seemed relaxed, but it wasn't the right word. Resigned, perhaps?

 

They strapped the harness onto the man and unlocked his handcuffs. Both Morrison and Reyes seemed to tense up once he was unrestrained.

 

"And now, uh, we should just be able to activate it and we're done. Hopefully," Winston coughed, making the stranger snicker.

 

"Here's your stuff," Reyes said gruffly and held out a bag. The man took it with a nod, checking it once before looking over to the Strike-Commander.

 

"Don't screw this up, Morrison." The Accelerator whirred to life, a bright flurry of blue light coiling around it. It stirred, shivered and twisted.

 

Then it faded, leaving nothing behind.

 


End file.
